Right There
by i.paint.the.sky
Summary: After Dorian makes a comment about Varric and Cassandra being together, they both find themselves thinking about the possibilities and noticing each other in a different light.
1. Chapter 1: Right There

_Varric, are you and Cassandra...?_

_What, no! Why would you even ask that?_

_Truly? Bizarre._

_I'm right here!_

_See. She's right there. What are you waiting for?_

_Just because two people dislike each other doesn't mean they're about to kiss, Sparkler._

_Not according to your books._

_Don't mistake me for that hack who wrote Hard in Hightown 2. I can spell._

* * *

Damn Tevinter, this was all his fault.

Varric couldn't stop thinking about it. Which was damn annoying, since he pretty much wanted to think about _anything_ other than his relationship with the Seeker.

Not that there was anything to think about. At best, they were comrades-at-arms; at worst, she could still end up being the death of him, literally.

Still, that wasn't enough to stop him from wondering just what it would be like, if they were something else, something more ...

But no, that was impossible, not to mention awkward on so many levels. Just the physical differences would be more than enough to give him pause, not that he'd ever let that stop him, not if he really wanted something. Or someone.

Andraste's ass, why was he still even thinking about this? Yes, she was beautiful, sexy even, especially when she was cutting down their enemy of the day with her sword. But he sure as hell couldn't ever let the Seeker know he thought that.

* * *

Damn Tevinter, this was all his fault.

Cassandra could not stop thinking about it. Which was quite irritating, since she would prefer to think about _anything_ other than her relationship with Varric.

Not that there was anything to think about. At best, they were allies fighting against this madness; at worst, he was a liar whose continued presence would only hurt the Inquisition.

Still, that wasn't enough to stop her from wondering just what it would be like, if they were something else, something more ...

But no, that was impossible. Such matters would only serve as a distraction, not that this had stopped Dorian and the Iron Bull from shaking up. And they did seem quite happy, so maybe she would be too.

By the Maker, why was she still even thinking about this? Yes, he could be charming when he wanted to. And she could understand the desire to turn the world into a story where loose ends could be neatly tied up and everyone got a happy ending. But she sure as hell couldn't ever let Varric know she thought that.

* * *

On the first evening that they returned to Skyhold, Varric and Cassandra found themselves sitting down for another game of Wicked Grace. Much to everyone's disappointment, Cullen had declined the opportunity to win back his dignity.

"It is likely for the best anyway," Josephine said, with a smile. "It wouldn't do for the Commander of the Inquisition's forces to find himself without any wardrobe left at all."

"Spoilsport," muttered the Inquisitor. "I really did enjoy watching him lose."

"As did we all," said Dorian, with a chuckle and a smirk. "As did we all."

"Right, why don't I go ahead and deal then," Varric said after a moment, shaking his head. "Ruffles is up first, if anyone else is brave enough to take her on."

After a long moment of silence, Cassandra surprised herself by saying "I'll take my chances, deal me in."

Varric's eyebrows rose. "Are you sure you can handle it, Seeker?"

In the background, Dorian muttered something about Varric wanting her to handle something different. Cassandra ignored him. "With a family like mine, it takes more than an Antivan to scare me off."

Varric shrugged. "Alright, don't say I didn't warn you."

"As if I need your warnings."

Dorian snickered again and she glared at him. Not surprisingly, that only amused him more. "I think I'll watch this round," he said. "I wouldn't want to interrupt anything."

Varric rolled his eyes. "If there aren't any other takers, let's get this show on the road."

Cassandra found herself staring at the dwarf's hands as he shuffled and dealt the cards. His movements were effortless, showing both his familiarity with card games as well as a rogue's deftness of hand. She could imagine him disarming traps with just as much ease, or taking coin silently from an unsuspecting mark.

Or caressing his lover's face.

She turned away at that last thought, as heat rose to her cheeks. Thankfully the cards were dealt now and she could focus on something else. Because of this, she didn't notice Varric's attention turn to her.

He'd found himself watching the Seeker too many times lately. Watching her, and wondering. Now at least he had the excuse of the game, as he tried to decide if she was bluffing or not. He hadn't yet picked up on any of her tells - and, despite Josephine's claims to the contrary, almost everyone had a tell, if you watched carefully enough - but he was very familiar with the many moods of Cassandra Pentaghast.

Right now, she seemed reasonably pleased with her cards. Her hand must be good but not great. Not yet. A few more draws and discards, and that could change. He found himself watching even closer, to try and see the moment when it did.

There. She picked up another card and her lips twitched slightly, just the hint of a smile. He might not have noticed the movement, if the scar on her cheek hadn't accentuated it. He wondered where she'd gotten that - he'd tried to ask once but his only answer had been a glare.

Most of his answers from the Seeker had come in the form of a glare. Maybe some day that wouldn't be the case. Despite everything, he really did sort of like her.

Maybe a bit more than sort of.

He glanced over at Dorian, who was watching the game with far too much smug enjoyment. The mage grinned when he noticed Varric's gaze, then mouthed two words: _right there_.

Varric looked away and focused on his own cards. Given how pleased Cassandra looked, he didn't think he had much of a chance. This was only confirmed when the next card drawn was the Angel of Death.

"Let's see them," he said, looking back at the Seeker. She was looking at him and actually smiled, albeit smugly, before putting her cards down.

"Three knights and a pair of angels," she announced, her eyes still fixed on Varric.

"That's got me beat," he admitted. "Nice cards, Seeker."

"It is a good hand," Josephine said, and Varric realized he'd almost forgotten she was playing to. This was definitely _not_ a good thing. "Unfortunately, mine is better. Four songs."

Cassandra's scowl was back as she watched Josephine collect her winnings. "Damn Antivans," she muttered, colour appearing on her cheeks. "And don't you dare say that you told me so," she warned Varric.

Luckily for her, he was too busy looking at the way her skin flushed around the scar and - Andraste help him - thinking of other reasons this might occur.

* * *

"Seeker."

"Varric."

It was an hour past sundown, which meant that the main hall was empty. Or almost empty, except for the Varric and Cassandra, who stood in the light from the dying fire, many feet of awkwardness between them.

"Look, Seeker," Varric began, "if you're looking for the next instalment of _Swords and Shields_, I've been a little busy, what with this saving the world thing, so-"

"I want you to kiss me."

For a moment, Varric was actually speechless. "You what?"

"You heard me," Cassandra replied, her voice commanding. At moments like this that it's easy to see how she rose so high in the world. You almost can't help but obey.

"Okay … why?"

She stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "Because Dorian's words made me curious. And don't you dare pretend that they didn't do the same thing for you. I've seen you watching me."

He wasn't going to pretend anything – for once – but he doesn't tell her that. Instead he just nodded. "As you wish, Se- … Cassandra."

"Good," she murmured, before frowning. "How do we ...?" She paused, then shifted, preparing to kneel.

"No, no, don't do that!" Varric grimaced at the thought. "Just wait a moment." He walked over to grab a nearby chair, then pulled it over. He quickly got up and stood on it. "That's better," he said, smirking when he realized he was now a bit taller than her, even if he was cheating.

They stood there, staring at each other. And staring. And staring. They'd never seen each other this way before, from this literal or figurative angle. After almost a minute had passed, Cassandra frowned. "Varric …"

Whatever she was going to say was lost as Varric reached over, grabbed her arms, and pulled her into a kiss.

The kiss was messy and more than a little awkward. It was also amazing. It had been a long time for both of them, and perhaps a long time coming as well. The clash and dance of lips and teeth and occasional tongue continued until they finally had to break apart, gasping for air.

Cassandra leaned her forehead against Varric's, and he was pleased to see the flush back on her cheeks, the colour deeper than before, making the silvery scar tissue stand out that much more. After a few deep breaths, she straightened to stand upright, looking at him with remarkable composure, all this considered.

"Did that …" Varric paused to cause, trying to match her calm and failing, "did that satisfy your curiosity?"

She took a step back, then smiled. "Yes," she said, before turning and walking away.

"Good," he muttered to himself and she left. "Because it only fueled mine."

* * *

_I saw the most fascinating thing the other night, Varric._

_Do I even want to know?_

_Oh, I think you will._

_Fine. Out with it, Sparkler, what did you see?_

_Well, there I was, just minding my own business in the main hall, when what did I spy but-_

_Enough!_

_But Cassandra, I'm just getting to the-_

_I said enough._

_Oh, fine. But let me tell you, I've never been so proud for meddling before my life._

_Is that so?_

_Yes, yes it is._

_Fine, good for you, Sparkler. And … thanks._

_You're welcome._


	2. Chapter 2: Right Here

Though she would never admit it - particularly not in present company - Cassandra liked the hustle, bustle, and general disorder of Val Royeaux. Sometimes it was nice to not know what to expect, so long as the consequences weren't too dire. And these days, the worst thing likely to happen was ending up in some monstrosity of a dress because Leliana claimed it would look pretty (it never did).

Thankfully, there were unlikely to be any dresses involved today, as she was accompanying the Inquisitor to the city in order to purchase supplies. Most of the items on the list were basic necessities, things which were running low as more people streamed out to Skyhold. It took most of the morning to make all the necessary arrangements and once that was done, Cassandra believed the plan was to start returning home themselves.

She had not counted on the wrench in this plan named Dorian.

"Inquisitor, look!" the Tevinter mage exclaimed. "Half off potions. I'm sure they're rubbish but we simply must check it out, just to be sure."

Evelyn was clearly interested, but she glanced back at the others. "Would you be fine waiting?"

"Oh, of course they will be just fine," Dorian insisted. "We'll just pop in and out. They'll hardly even know we were gone."

Cassandra ignored the man, as usual. "It will be fine, Inquisitor. We can wait over at the cafe."

Before Evelyn had a chance to respond, Dorian had reached over and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards the magic shop. Cassandra rolled her eyes and headed for the cafe. It wasn't until she sat down that she allowed herself to glance at her one remaining companion and wonder just how much of this all had been the Tevinter's plan.

"Well, Seeker, shall we get a drink?"

* * *

Cassandra took another sip of her wine, bracing herself to confront the plate of meat that had just been brought to them. She hadn't intended to stay long enough to eat, but after Dorian had told them the delay would be just a little longer, as he and the Inquisitor looked at more "mage things," as he had put it, Varric had insisted that they needed something more to go with their drinks.

"How do you think they make it taste like despair?" Varric asked, putting a piece on his fork and eyeing it suspiciously. "Do I even want to know? How does anyone even know what despair tastes like anyway?"

"Are you intending to eat that, or just talk to it?"

He looked at her and smirked. "Ladies first."

She scoffed, barely suppressing an eyeroll, and picked up her own fork. She calmly stabbed the closest piece of ham, lifted it to her lips, and took a bite. It tasted … well, the only word she could really of was, indeed, despair. It was bitter and sickeningly sweet, even though that should have been impossible.

It was also utterly revolting.

She put the fork down. "I'm suddenly not very hungry anymore."

"That's bad?" Varric asked, chuckling. "Well, I think I'll take your word for it. I learned long ago that if you don't know what something is, you definitely shouldn't be putting it in your mouth."

"What exactly - no, nevermind. I am certain I don't want to know." He laughed again and Cassandra found herself smiling, despite herself.

"Well, Seeker," he said after a moment, "I am actually a bit hungry. What do you say we find someplace a little more … rustic."

She raised an eyebrow. "Rustic? In Orlais?"

He shrugged. "Every city has at least one rundown tavern, some hive of scum, villainy, and terrible booze. Hell, Kirkwall had at least twenty, of which the Hanged Man was the most respectable. And while that might not be your scene, it definitely is mine. So, what do you say? Are you coming?"

She looked away, scanning the marketplace. "The Inquisitor and Dorian could be back at any moment."

"You really believe that?"

She glared at him for a moment, then sighed. "No, I suppose not."

"Alright then, that's settles it."

"That settles nothing," she said. "While you may enjoy purposely looking for a city's seedy underbelly, I hardly see how I would enjoy it."

"A little seediness is good for the soul."

She kept glaring.

"Oh, come on," he said, arms spread out, "don't you trust me?"

"No."

He laughed and stood up. "Which is exactly why you should come, to make sure I don't do something to besmirch the reputation of our fine organization." He walked around the table and offer his hand. She ignored it but did stand up, before dropping a couple of gold coins on the table.

"Besides," Varric added as they left the cafe, "we'll just leave word about where we're going. They aren't going to leave without us."

* * *

It took them awhile to find an establishment that looked suitably disreputable, at least according to Varric. Cassandra knew just enough Orlesian to blush slightly at the name - _Avales &amp; Craches_ \- but she had to admit, the food was better than expected. That said, there was no way she was touching the tankard that had been placed in front of her. It was supposedly filled with ale but it certainly didn't look or smell like it.

"Now, this is my type of place," Varric said, before taking a long gulp of his mystery drink. He grimaced, then grinned. "It's definitely covered the terrible booze requirement, and I'm pretty sure the group in the corner is deciding if we're worth mugging. You may want to keep your sword at the ready, Seeker."

"Don't worry," she told him, "I always do when I'm with you."

He grinned. "That's probably for the best." He reached over to the plate they were sharing, pulling out another piece of meat. "At least this actually tastes like meat, though I'm not entirely sure what it is. Probably pidgeon."

Cassandra took another bite of hers. "Maybe it's hawk. You never know where one will turn up."

Varric sighed. "I suppose I deserve that. Look, blame me all you want for not telling you where Hawke was. I don't regret it. The Inquisitor's doing a great job, but it's a job I wouldn't wish on anyone, especially not a friend who has already seen more than her share of troubles."

Cassandra put her hands on the table. "That's not why I'm angry." His raised eyebrows earned him another scoff of disgust. "It was was at first," she admitted, "but now I'm angry because, despite everything, I _believed_ you."

Apparently, there were actually was to make Varric shut up, and saying that was one of them. Cassandra grabbed another one of the mystery wings, and had cleaned the bones off before Varric finally stirred.

"Cassandra, as you well know, I'm a storyteller. And storytellers are, at least in my experience, some of the best damn liars out there. So don't take it so personally. Trust me, it wasn't personal."

"I know," she admitted. "And I believe now that, had Hawke been at the Conclave, she would be dead with all the others. It was Evelyn who was always meant to lead the Inquisition. No one else, no matter their past deeds, could have done it."

"It's hard to compete with the Herald of Andraste," Varric said, raising his tankard in salute. He took another drink, grimacing again, then turned to devouring the lasts of the wings. "Shall we head on and see what other trouble we can stir up?" he asked when the food was gone.

"We should head back. Surely, they will be finished this 'mage business' by now."

He shrugged. "I learned awhile ago it's best not to rush a mage. Besides, I told you already, they're not going to leave without us."

Cassandra ignored him and stood up, leaving more coin on the table. As they left the tavern, she looked up at the sign again, just to be sure she had read it correctly. She had.

Varric glanced up, following her gaze. "You know, Seeker, the name's about what you should do with the booze."

"Of course it is," she said dryly, not fooled for a minute. Not this time.

* * *

Cassandra's plan had been to go straight back to the cafe and wait there, for however long it took for Dorian and the Inquisitor to return. No more diversions, no matter how much Varric insisted. She was done with rustic food, terrible drinks, and people of questionable intentions.

It was going well too … until she spotted the bookstore.

It had been awhile since she had something to read other than endless reports about Inquisition business. She'd tried to Skyhold library, but it mostly contained ancient tomes about history and the like - important books, to be sure, but not quite what she was looking for. Of course, she could have asked one of the merchants to have some titles shipped in, but it seemed like such a trivial request, when their caravans could be filled with things the Inquisition actually needed. But here was a store, right there, calling to her.

She was doomed even before she noticed Varric heading in the front door.

Cassandra breathed in deeply when she entered the store, the scent of fresh pages and ink bringing a smile to her face. She noticed that Varric heading left and so she quickly turned to go right, and found herself staring at his name emblazoned on the cover of the latest volume of _Swords and Shields_.

She glanced over to see if he - or anyone else - was watching, before picking it up. This edition claimed to contain the chapter Varric had given her a few month ago, at Evelyn's behest. Cassandra told herself she was only checking to see if any changes had been made between then and publication. This excuse would have been more plausible, however, had she actually turned to that section, rather than finding herself entranced by an earlier scene. The Knight-Commander had just proven that she was innocent of the murders, but just as things were beginning to finally look up for her, suddenly -

"Why in the world are you reading _that_? Haven't you got that damn series memorized by now?"

Cassandra slammed the book shut. "Just because I've read something before does not mean I can't appreciate reading it again," she told him.

Varric sighed. "I still don't know what you see in that series that's so good … not that I don't appreciate the admiration of an adoring fan, no matter how unlikely."

"And I still don't know how you, the author, can be so dismissive of it." She paused, debating each word carefully before speaking again. "These books, these characters … they have become like friends, in their own way."

She was braced for ridicule and derision, but Varric was silent. "Thank you, Cassandra," he said eventually, "that's the highest compliment any reader could give me."

She froze for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "Right," she said eventually, raising her chin and squaring her shoulders, "I think we're done here. The Inquisitor and Dorian must be finished by now." She placed the book back on the shelf and headed for door, leaving Varric once again rushing to not be left behind.

* * *

When they arrived back at the cafe, one of the servers rushed over and handed Cassandra a note. She read it, groaned, and passed it to Varric.

"Well, shit … they left without us."

"I'll add another broken promise to your tab."

"I'm pretty sure I never promised anything."

"Does it matter?" Cassandra asked, throwing her arms up in dismay. "They are gone. But perhaps if we hurry, we can catch up to them. Let's move."

She immediately headed towards the city gates, taking fast, long strides. Varric had to run to keep up, which he did for a few minutes. Then he suddenly stopped, standing and waiting. At first, Cassandra ignored him, but eventually she turned and strode back. "What is it?"

"It's getting late," he said, cocking his head in the direction of the harbour, which was now aglow colours as the sun set. "We won't be able to catch up with them before dark and, while I don't know about you, Seeker, I don't exactly feel like blundering around countryside at night."

Cassandra wanted to argue the point, but even she had to see the logic in it. "Fine," she said, reluctantly. "You may have a point."

Varric grinned at her. "Can I get that in writing?"

"No."

He shrugged. "Didn't think so, but I had to try." He looked around, swiftly identifying where exactly they were standing. "We should go east, if we want to find a reputable inn. Not usually my style, but for you, I'll …" he trailed off, as he realized Cassandra wasn't paying attention. In fact, she was doing the opposite, walking west towards the harbour. Once again, he found himself having to run in order keep up. "Where are you going?"

She didn't answer him until they reached the water's edge. "If we're stuck here," she said, looking out across the Waking Sea, "then we might as well enjoy it. This view is … sublime."

"Eh, it's not half bad," Varric said with a shrug. "It could use more giant bronze statues though. And chains, those are always fun."

"Varric."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Wisely, he did. And in the silence, the sunset did begin to seem sublime. Or maybe it was just the moonshine finally wearing off and making the whole world seem like a better place.

Or, just maybe, it was something else.

There were only a few inches of sunlight left when Cassandra finally spoke again. "Despite being unceremoniously left behind, this was actually a pleasant afternoon. Lunch, shopping, watching the sunset …"

Her voice trailed off as her eyes widened and Varric was treated once more to the sight of colour on her cheeks. He would have enjoyed it more, if he wasn't also realizing that the best hours of his week had been the ones he spent with her.

"Varric," Cassandra said a few moments later, "I think we should talk about the night a few weeks ago, when we …"

"Yeah … I have a better idea."

"And what is-" she turned towards him, just as he stood up on the ledge and pressed his lips against hers.

Their first kiss had been pretty great - mind blowing in more than one way - but this was somehow even better. It was a bit more sudden and a bit less unexpected. Also, this time there was a lot more tongue.

When it was over, Varric took a step back, peering at Cassandra in the quickly fading light. "What now, Seeker?"

She stared back at him, eyes dark and unreadable. "Now," she said finally, "I get to choose the inn we spend the night at. Two rooms … but," she added, with a smile, "if you were to knock on my door at some point, I might just open it. How does that sound?"

Varric hopped down off the ledge. "As you wish, Cassandra," he said as she stood up and begin to lead the way. "As you wish."


End file.
